


Look Deep

by autobibliophile



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 1900s au that is definitely not historically accurate, AAAAAAHHH I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING, F/M, I don't have a beta, Slow Burn, Werewolf AU, a snokewalker, he's a skinwalker that changes into a wendigo?, heck, it's an au au of our u, or Both, or wendigo, snoke is a skinwalker, this is not historically accurate, this is short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 18:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11514918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autobibliophile/pseuds/autobibliophile
Summary: It  had  been  there  his  whole  life.  Nobody  believed  him  when  he  told  them  about  the  mysterious  dark  figure  always  hiding  in  the  corner  of  his  eye  or  amongst  the  darkness  of  the  trees  whenever  he  left  the  comfort  of  his  home  to  face  the  ominous  world  of  the  outside;  every  time  he’d  try  to  tell   his  mother,  father,  uncle,  or  others,  they’d  say  it  was  only  his  young  eyes  confusing  it  for  something  that  wasn’t  there.  Eventually,  he  gave  up  on  telling  anyone  about  the  looming  presence—always  there,  never  fading.Now,  as  a  grown  man,  when  anyone  would  ask  him  if  he  remembered  complaining  and  crying  about  a  trick  of  the  light  as  a  child,  he’d  laugh  it  off,  knowing  wholeheartedly  that  it  was  there,  waiting  just  outside.It  had  been   there  his  whole  life,  for  as  long  as  he  can  remember,  watching,  perhaps  even  waiting—waiting  for  the  opportune  moment  to  strike.





	Look Deep

**Author's Note:**

> i just started writing fanfic again to get in the habit of and better my writing as i work on a few books i'm writing :) i'm kind of upset that this is short, and i don't have much of a plan for this, but i'll continue and update as best i can. also i only read part of Bloodline so anything that's OOC is my fault, but from what i understand, Carise Sindian is a total jerk. anyway, feel free to comment and review because I crave that Validation

It  had  been  there  his  whole  life.  Nobody  believed  him  when  he  told  them  about  the  mysterious  dark  figure  always  hiding  in  the  corner  of  his  eye  or  amongst  the  darkness  of  the  trees  whenever  he  left  the  comfort  of  his  home  to  face  the  ominous  world  of  the  outside;  every  time  he’d  try  to  tell   his  mother,  father,  uncle,  or  others,  they’d  say  it  was  only  his  young  eyes  confusing  it  for  something  that  wasn’t  there.  Eventually,  he  gave  up  on  telling  anyone  about  the  looming  presence—always  there,  never  fading.

Now,  as  a  grown  man,  when  anyone  would  ask  him  if  he  remembered  complaining  and  crying  about  a  trick  of  the  light  as  a  child,  he’d  laugh  it  off,  knowing  wholeheartedly  that  it  was  there,  waiting  just  outside.

 

It  had  been   there  his  whole  life,  for  as  long  as  he  can  remember,  watching,  perhaps  even  waiting—waiting  for  the  opportune  moment  to  strike. 

 

Now,  here  today  as  a  23  year  old  man,  with  a  good  job  under  his  mother’s  wing,  he  wished  he  could  perhaps  say  he’d  only  forgotten  about  the  creature,  but  things  are  so  rarely  as  we  wish.  He  had  assumed  years  ago  that  maybe  it  was  only  the  house  and  that  if  he  had  left,  it  would  be  gone.  But  it  had  followed  him  all  the  way  to  his  own  home  years  before  when  he  moved  in.  It  was  only  a  small  thing,  his  house—if  you  could  call  it  that.  It  lacked  much  of  the  space  his  parents’  home  did,  but  it  was  just  enough  to  suit  him.  It  was  in  a  small  neighborhood,  the  houses  with  barely  five  feet  between  each  other.  It  was  more  of  a place  for  new  couples  with  small families,  so  him  being  alone  set  him  apart  from  everyone  else,  but  he  didn’t  care:  he  was  used  to  it.

 

He  stared  out  the  window,  drinking  his  morning  coffee  as  he  prepared  to  face  the  fear  that  plagued  him  every  day.  He’d  thought  about  seeing  a  doctor  about  his  “problem”  for  years  now,  yet  he  never  visited  out  of  fear  that  the  doctor  would  say  the  same  thing  everyone  else  did.  

 

No  sense  dwelling  on  that,  though.  It  was  going  to  be  a  long  day  today,  one  that  he  still  hadn't  been  prepared  for  even  though  this  was  weeks  in  the  making.  He  had  to  stay  a  few  hours  after  work  because  of  a  meeting  with  his  mother  and  other  council  members  and  political  leaders  that  he  absolutely   _ had  _  to  attend.  And  after  that  was  a  retiring  ceremony  and  party  for  his  mother.  Everyone  would  be  there—from  his  parents’  old  friends,  to  most  of  the  town;  everyone  would  love  to  pay  respects  to  their  most  beloved  senator.  Others  who  survived  the  war  that  resulted  in  the  destruction  of  their  kingdom  of  Alderaan  would  also  attend  out  of  respect  for  their  only  surviving  royalty—which  included  him.  Although  he  had  not  yet  been  born,  let  alone  conceived  at  that  time,  he  was  his  mother’s  son,  and  to  the  survivors,  that  made  him  as  much  a  prince  as  his  mother  was  their  princess.  

 

The  surviving  colony  had  moved  to  another  place  to  found  their  city  and  revive  the  old  kingdom.  They  had  wished  for  his  mother  to  return,  but  she  was  already  too  busy  in  the  senate  and  had  no  intention  of  returning  to  a  place  of  royalty  and  had  informed  them  on  his  behalf  that  her  son  had  no  intention  of  ruling  a  colony,  which  he  didn’t.  He  would  thank  her  for  a  thousand  years  for  that.  

 

He  smirked  a  bit,  remembering  the  memory  and  still,  to  this  day,  feeling  eternally  grateful  that  she  had  turned  them  down  for  him.  He  took  the  last  sip  of  his  drink,  and  set  the  mug  in  the  sink.  He  would  wash  it  later  when  he  returned  home.  Unfortunately,  that  would  most  likely  be  late  in  the  night  unless  he  could  forego  the  ceremony  and  party  that  followed.  But  even  the  most  of  naïve  of  people  would  know  that  was  impossible.  

 

As  Ben  shrugged  on  his  suit  coat,  he  took  a  deep  breath,  as  he  did  every day  to  prepare  himself  to  look  into  those  familiar  glowing  red  eyes  that  greeted  him  from  the  forest  that  circled  his  neighborhood.  Keeping  his  eyes  on  the  ground,  he  slowly  opened  the  door  and  walked  out.  This  neighborhood  was  a  safe  and  good  one,  as  it  was  full  of  children  and  mostly  young  couples,  but  that  never  stopped  him  from  locking  the  door  every  day.  As  he  turned  around  to  face  the  street,  he  didn’t  need  visual  proof  that  he  was  being  watched.  The  eerie  feeling  had  always  been  there  every  time  he  set  foot  outside.  

 

Slowly,  he  lifted  his  face,  shifted  his  eyes  to  look  at  the  exact  spot  where  he  knew  it  was;  still,  silent,  greeting.  He  had  only  seen  it  from  afar,  but  knew  that  it  had  to  be  at  least  a  foot  taller  than  him.  Its  eyes  even  reached  just  over  the  lowest  branches  of  the  surrounding  trees,  glowing  that  deep  red  as  they  always  did.  It  looked  as  if  someone  had  placed  red-glowing  lanterns  in  the  trees  to  mimic  eyes,  but  it  wasn’t,  unfortunately.  He  knew  they  followed  him  and  watched  his  every  move.  

 

It  even  followed  him  around  the  city  as  long  as  it  could  stay  just  out  of  sight. 

 

The  feeling  of  nausea  had  always  accompanied  him  when  he  looked  at  it,  though  he  had  managed  to  get  over  it,  eventually.  Only  when  he  stared  too  long  at  it  did  the  sick  feeling  return.  He  then  tore  his  eyes  away.  

 

The  old  superstition  was  that  if  you  looked  away  from  something  like  that,  it  would  disappear.  That  wasn’t  the  case  here.  Sometimes  he’d  glance  back  up  to  that  spot,  thinking  it  was  just  a  hallucination  and  that  it  would  disappear,  but  it  stayed  still;  watching,  waiting.  He  had  no  idea  of  its  intentions,  but  intuition  always  seemed  to  say  it  was  waiting  for  the  perfect  moment.  

 

There  was  no  place  for  dwelling  on  that  today;  he  wanted  this  day  to  be  over  as  quick  as  possible,  so  he  had  to  get  to  work.  He’d  take  his  automobile  today.  Needed  the  solace  that  taking  a  carriage  wouldn’t  provide:  the  nightmares  had  returned,  which  made  him  more  on  edge  than  usual.  

 

They  usually  entailed  the  creature  of  subject.  

 

It  would  find  him  alone  somehow;  and  he  was  weakened  by  something.  He  could  never  tell  what,  but  in  the  creature’s  domain,  Ben  was  unable  to  fight  back.  It  felt  all  too  real  as  he  could  feel  the  creature’s  sharp  teeth  digging  into  his  neck  as  it  tore  him  apart;  he  would  then  watch  on  as  it  conquered  nations,  devoured  his  family  as  it  devoured  him,  and  there  was  nothing  he  could  do  to  stop  it.  Its  form,  which  he  could  never  wholly  see,  was  mangled;  a  disgusting  creature  that  looked  like  it  was  left  for  dead  thousands  of  years  ago.  

 

Sometimes,  though,  the  dream  would  have  a  pleasant  ending.  There  was  a girl.  He  could  never  see  her  face,  but  she  would  conquer  the  beast.  She  would  bring  him  back  to  life;  take  him  from  his  suffering  place  and  show  him  a  light  brighter  than  the  sun.   She’d  say  it  had  always  been  inside  him,  he  need  only  look  deep.  

 

It  was…   _ strange _ ,  to  say  the  least.  He  hadn’t  felt  light  nor  pure.  Never.  Only  that  darkness  existed  inside,  threatening  to  claw  its  way  out  the  older  he  got.

 

There  was  no  light  in  his  tortured  vessel.

 

~*~

 

He  was  right—always  was,  in  fact.  It   _ had _  been  a  long  day.  Though  not  much  differed  from  his  usual  workday;  actually,  nothing  at  all  did.  The  meeting  had  already  dredged  on  for  an  hour,  adding  to  his  already  longer  than  usual  workday.  When  the  whole  room’s  attention  turned  to  him,  he  realized  he  had  not  been  listening  for  at  least  the  last  half  hour.  They  looked  expectant.  

 

“Sorry,  it’s  uh… it’s  been   a  long  day,”  he  said  and  straightened  in  his  chair.  “Could  you  repeat  that?”

 

“Mr.  Solo,  since  your  mother  is  retiring,  you  know  there’s  going  to  be  a  senate  election,  correct?”  one  of  the  council  members  asked.

 

“Correct.”

 

“Well,  we  think,  that  in  order  to  keep  the  province  running  and  the  people  happy,  you  should  run  for  senate.”

 

He  froze.  Was  he  hearing  this  correctly?  It  took  all  of  his  power  to  bite  back  a  laugh.  What  were  they  thinking?!  They  could   _ not _  be  serious!

 

“Mr.  Jago,”  Ben  began;  he  placed  his  hands  on  the  table  and  laced  his  fingers,  “...I  am  neither  interested,  nor  prepared,  to  run  in  an  election;  should  I  run  or  even  win,  I  will  surely  be  this  province’  downfall.  I  do  not  have  any  interest  in  taking  a  position  of  power—neither  royal,  nor  political.”

 

“We  ask  that  you  would  at  least  consider  your  options,  sir—”

 

“I’m  not  interested,  and  that’s  the  end  of  it,”  he  warned.

 

“Ben,”  his  mother’s  voice  interrupted.  “I  think  this  would  be  a  great  experience  for  both  you  and  the  people.  They’ll  need  a  leader  and  you’d  be  a  lot  better  one  than  that  slimy  politician  Sindian.” 

 

“I’m  not  interested,”  Ben  stated.  “In  the  future  I  might  look  into  it;  as  for  now  I’d  like  for  the  meeting  to  move  on,  but  I   _ will _  think  about  it.” 

 

The  people  around  him  looked  satisfied,  that  maybe  he  would  actually  consider  it.  He  was  lying,  though.  There  was  no  way  in  heaven  or  hell  he  would  take  a  position  like  that. 

 

The  meeting  continued  for  about  another  hour  and  a  half  before  it  had  to  be  stopped  due  to  the  ceremony  happening  soon.  Ben  had  barely  put  any  input  into  the  whole  meeting,  but  when  he  did  he  just  proved  to  them  he  was  the  perfect  choice  for  senate—and  then  cursed  at  himself  for  doing  so.  Thankfully  it  was  over,  though.  Now  he  just  had  to  sit  through  an  hour  ceremony  and  then  he  might  be  able  to  just  stay  for  the  better  part  of  an  hour  of  the  party.

 

All  he  had  to  do  was  socialize  and  pretend  to  have  a  good  time,  all  the  while  dodging  accusations  and  laughing  at  jokes  about  his  “imaginary  creature.”  

 

As  per  the  usual  tradition,  family  members  of  the  retiring  senator  had  to  stand  near;  and  so,  he  was  forced  to  stand  atop  a  step  in  front  of  a  whole  crowd.  His  father  would  have  been  there,  too,  but  he  was  absent  as  always—off  on  one  of  his  tangents;  racing,  this  time.  He  stood  alone  with  his  uncle  as  she  made  her  departing  oath  and  speech;  she  had  the  power  to  lull  a  crowd  to  her  side  of  the  battle—a  skill  even  Lady  Carise  Sindian  was  jealous  of.  Her  speech  rung  of  power,  dignity,  and  truth;  the  very  essence  and  aura  she  emanated  no  matter  where  she  was,  whether  at  home  or  the  workplace. At  the  end,  she  was  given  a  medal  of  gratitude  for  her  years  of  honest  service—something  many  politicians  lack. 

 

The  ceremony  didn’t  feel  like  it  lasted  as  long  as  it  did,  and  Ben  was  thankful  for  that.  Just  another  hour  or  more  and  he’d  be  able  to  go  home,  back  to  his  bed.  But  first,  he  had  to  pretend  to  be  the  socialite  everyone  thought  him  to  be.  Though  he  did  drink  liquid  courage  before  he  began  his  rounds  to  political  groups  from  every  sector.

 

Now  the  façade  was  placed.

 

~*~

 

It  wasn’t  long  before  the  witch  herself  showed  up  to  talk.  

 

“I  hear  you’re  going  to  run  for  senate,”  Lady  Carise  Sindian  began.  “Pity.  They  should  be  smart  enough  to  know  you’ll  lose  against  me.”

 

“What  do  you  want   _ now _ ?”  he  sighed.

 

She  laughs.  “Don’t  you  know?  You’re  a  fine  man,  Ben.  I’d  love  to  take  you  to  dinner  sometime,”  she  says,  and  places  her  hand  on  his  arm.

 

He  jerks  his  arm  away,  “I’m  not  interested,  Carise;  I  am  running,  I  hope  you  know.  I  can’t  wait  to  see  your  face  when  I  get  the  majority’s  vote.  And  I’d  prefer  if  our  contact  stops  here  and  you  never  step  within  three  feet  of  me  again  until  the  election.”  Ben  turns  his  back  on  her;  he  can  feel  the  daggers  she’s  glaring  in  his  back,  but  it’s  nothing  he’s  not  used  to:  she’d  tried  to  use  this  tactic  before  and  he’s  pushed  her  away  every  time,  but  now’s  the  first  time  he  finally  told  her  to  stay  away.

 

“You  seem  disgruntled,  but  I  won’t  ask  why:  I  know  you  hate  parties,”  his  uncle’s  voice  spoke  from  behind  him.  Ben  had  retreated  to  the  drink  table  once  again  after  his  interaction  with  Sindian.  “Don’t  drink  your  life  away,  Ben.  You  can  go  home  if  you  want  to.”

 

“Really?”  he  faced  Luke.

  
“Yes.  You  have  no  obligation  to  be  here  for  the  rest  of  the  night  other  than  to  keep  up  appearances  for  the  public;  and  I  know  you’re  tired.  Go  home—I’ll  cover  for  you.”  he  winked.

 

Ben  sighed  in  relief,  “thank  you.”

 

“Anytime,”  Luke  said.  “Now  go  home  before  anyone  catches  you.”

 

He  set  down  his  glass  and  kept  close  to  the  walls,  moving  slowly  as  he  crept  toward  the  exit.  Luckily,  he  made  it  out  without  anyone  trying  to  talk  to  him;  though  it  was  getting  late—eleven  o’clock  was  fast  approaching  if  it  wasn’t  here  already.  It’d  take  him  about  twenty  minutes  or  more  to  get  back  home;  which  would  be  the  perfect  time  for  him  to  collapse  on  his  bed  and  sleep  in  as  it  was  Saturday  tomorrow.  

Although,  he’d  have  to  drive  by  the  forest  on  his  way  home,  which  made  him  uneasy.  The  thought  of  seeing  the  creature  in  total  darkness  brought  feelings  of  fear;  it  was  an  utmost  certainty  he’d  have  the  nightmares  again—or  some  variation  thereof.  

 

The  car  started  immediately;  a  relieved  sigh  escaped  his  mouth  for  the  second  time  that  night:  he  almost  feared  it  would  only  turnover,  and  leave  him  alone  to  walk  the  roads  on  foot  in  the  dark.  Returning  to  the  party  felt  like  a  better  option  than  that.  Winding  his  way  out  of  the  lot  and  onto  the  main  road,  he  let  his  thoughts  take  over;   _ should _  he  really  run  in  the  election?  If  he  did,  there  was  a  certainty  that  he  would  beat  Sindian.  The  woman  was  older  than  him  so  she  certainly  had  more  experience,  but  the  people  in  this  province  disliked  outsiders,  especially  those  from  their  rival  nations  such  as  Arkanis.  She  was  too  wealthy;  too  snobbish  for  the  people  to  even  consider  it,  but  she  did  have  a  way  of  exposing  things  that  weren’t  meant  to  be  shared,  which  in  turn  steered  the  civilians  to  her  side  of  the  battle.  

 

There  was  only  one  thing  that  could  be  revealed  about  him;  it  could  make  him  look  insane  if  those  around  him  knew  it  still  happened,  but—

 

The  car  stopped.  

 

Ben  vaulted  out  of  his  thoughts  when  the  engine  just…  shut  off.  No  warning,  no  smoke  that  he  could  see;  just...

 

Nothing. 

 

Looking  around,  he  realized  the  forest  loomed  around  him.  Trees  dark  and  imposing,  various  animal  sounds  echoed  around  instead  of  being  overrun  by  the  sounds  of  the  motor;  he  snatched  the  lantern  of  its  hook,  stepped  out  of  the  car,  and  lifted  the  hood;  looked  for  anything  that  might  disturb  the  perfectly  functioning  motor.  

 

Still  nothing.

 

Everything  looked   _ normal _ .  

 

That  is,  until  he  realized  the  noises  of  the  wildlife  had  ceased  completely.  Slowly,  he  perked  his  head  up  and  closed  the  hood.  Ben  swiveled,  shone  the  lantern  every  direction,  frantically  searching  everywhere.  He’d  gotten  so  used  to  seeing  the  eyes  every  time  he’d  passed  through  the  forest  that  he  hadn’t  even  noticed  they  were  gone.  There  was  no  noise  nor  light  save  for  his  heavy  breathing  and  the  lantern’s  illumination.  Even  the  moon  seemed  to  hide  behind  the  clouds  in  fear  of  what  lurked  on  the  earth.  

 

The  fear  and  uneasiness  slowly  built  up,  until  he  felt  like  he  was  going  to  vomit  and  faint.  

 

Then  something  from  above;  a  single  drop  fell  on  his  neck,  then  a  few  more  followed.  There  were  no  stormclouds;  not  even  a  sign  of  rain.  And  he  wasn’t  standing  under  a  tree  or  anything  that  something  could  fall  from.  Or  so  he  thought. 

 

With  a  heavy  heart  and  tight  throat,  he  turned,  swallowing  thickly  as  he  did.

 

Unsurprisingly,  he  was  met  with  the  eyes;  though  they  were  much,  much  closer  this  time.  The  now  dwindling  lantern  light  illuminated  a  ghastly,  scarred   _ thing _ .  It  looked  human,  but  not.  As  if  it  had  been  once,  but  hundreds—or  even  thousands—of  years  before.  It  was  emaciated;  as  if  the  thing  had  starved  for  years,  only  now  finding  its  next  meal.  The  eyes  glowed  hungrily;  a  disgustingly  foul  stench  emanated  from  its  mangy  body.  The  thing  was  tall;  towered  over  Ben  by  well  over  a  foot,  he  could  tell,  but  it  was  slouching  uncomfortably.  Its  misshapen  mouth  stretched  in  a  growly  smile  to  reveal  sharp,  horrifying  teeth.  

 

Ben  couldn’t  see  much  more  of  it;  his  eyes  were  simply  glued  to  its  face,  unable  to  look  away.  A  clawed  hand  reached  up  to  grasp  his  chin,  and  forced  him  to  look  directly  into  its  eyes;  he  began  to  feel  nauseous  and  tired.  Like  it  was  intentionally  putting  him  to  sleep.  

 

He  tried  to  pry  its  hand  off  his  face,  close  his  eyes—anything  to  make  it  stop  but  nothing  would  work.  Finally,  he  managed  to  punch  the  thing  on  its  mucked  up  snout.  It  reared  back  and  released  him,  only  giving  him  enough  time  to  run.  But  it  was  difficult.  Whatever  it  had  done,  whatever  spell  it  cast  left  his  legs  weak—it  was  hard  to  run;  he  kept  stumbling  everywhere,  losing  his  footing  a  few  times  here  and  there.  It  let  out  a  bloodcurdling  howl,  or  scream.  Whatever  it  was,  it  was  terrifying;  as  if  it  was  a  call  to  tell  you  you  were  marked  for  death.  

 

Ben  didn’t  know  where  he  was  running;  the  surroundings  were  too  blurry  to  know.  

 

His  eyesight  seemed  to  have  blurred.

 

The  footsteps behind  him  made  him  want  to  run  faster,  but  it  was  impossible  now.  He  was  going  to  die,  and  there  was  nothing  he  could  do.  

 

Suddenly,  something  crashed  into  his  back,  tackled  him  to  the  ground.  He  knew  it  was  the  creature  without  having  to  look;  it  had  pinned  him  on  the  ground,  preventing  his  escape.  It  pressed  into  his  back,  pushing  all  the  air  out  of  his  lungs;  though  he  knew  it  didn’t  care.  Its  only  goal  was  to  eat  and  kill  and  it  didn’t  matter  who  it  did  it  to.  

 

But  it  stepped  off  his  back.  He  took  in  deep  breaths,  sucking  in  as  much  air  as  he  could  before  it  flipped  him  over.  

 

The  thing  stared  into  his  eyes,  as  if  this  were  some  tactic  to  prevent  escapes.  

 

It  bared  its  ugly  teeth  at  him  again.  

 

There  was  no  hope.

 

No  chance  for  survival.

 

It  lunged,  and  dug  its  teeth  into  his  neck.

 

He  could  hear  his  own  grunts,  even  the  guttural  sounds  he  made  as  his  throat  was  devoured  and  everything  went  black.

**Author's Note:**

> don't worry, he's not dead.


End file.
